The woes of Percy Weasley
by FishNet
Summary: Percy feels terrible about the way things have gone with his family, but he's too ashamed to speak to them. When he runs into an old aquantance from school, she just might be able to help him get his life back in order.


Percy Weasley ran his hands along the spines of the books in Flourish and Blotts Bookstore. Always an avid reader, lately books had been his only solace in life.

It had been two years since he'd had a civil meeting with his parents. He'd even been in their house once since then, and hadn't been able to bring himself to make any sort of progress towards speaking to him. He hated himself for his actions. He had been so thrilled to gain his position in the ministry that he'd been blinded to the truth. He couldn't believe that he'd treated his family the way he had, just for a job. He still had a job, yes, but it wasn't as fulfilling as he had expected it to be. It wasn't fulfilling at all, really.

He knew he hadn't wanted to believe his family. That had played a part in his behavior. He didn't want to think that the Dark Lord had returned, and so he had chosen to think that his family was lying, deluded by a mentally unsound boy. He cringed at the thought of it. Harry had been his friend, and he had dismissed him so quickly to forward his own stupid agenda.

Now he lived alone in London, having lost touch with all of his old Hogwarts friends. Shortly after his falling out with his family he'd had a falling out with Penelope as well, and so they'd broken up. He didn't linger at work, for fear of running into his father. He hadn't made any friends there. He worked, he read, he listened to the radio a bit. It was a miserable life.

He worried about them, too. He knew that each and every one of his siblings and both his parents would be involved in the resistance. One of them could die, and he'd never get the chance to tell them he was sorry.

He knew he'd been wrong. He didn't mind admitting it. But he was afraid that they'd refuse to forgive him. He knew that some of them would, at least. Fred and George would be right bastards about it, and he couldn't say he blamed them. When they'd opened their store in Diagon Alley, Percy had been briefly dissuaded from going to Flourish and Blotts, but he'd run out of reading material and dragged himself back eventually, trying to come during their business hours so that he wouldn't run into them.

He picked a book off the shelf, not particularly interested in it but wanting to leave. It no longer really mattered what he read, so long as he had something to pass the time with. He paid quickly and headed out. He never really worried about seeing the twins in the bookstore; they weren't big readers, although they might've needed research for their products, but once in the street he felt vulnerable. They weren't above throwing dung bombs at him, he was sure.

His apartment building was in another part of London and he enjoyed the walk to and from Diagon Alley even though he could've easily Apparated. The building was in a Muggle area, but it was run by a witch and house primarily magical people, so he could behave normally.

He passed Slug and Jiggers Apothecary, where a girl was adding dragon livers to a barrel displayed out front. They were having a special on dragon livers, apparently. He barely glanced at it, eager to be on his way.

"Percy?" He froze. "Percy Weasley?"

He looked at the source of the voice. It was the girl from the apothecary. She had long black hair drawn up in a pony tail and a long dragon skin apron. She dropped the dragon liver she was holding into the barrel and shook some muck off of her gloves. She was smiling.

He racked his brain to remember her. Finally it came to him; she was a Ravenclaw girl, a year younger than he was. He had only known her a little through Penelope, and she and Penny hadn't been close. That must've been why she was speaking to him so nicely; otherwise, Penny surely would've told her what a prick he was.

"Monday St. Regis," he said, smiling weakly. "How have you been?"

"Not bad, not bad. Well, you know, as good as you can really be in these circumstances. It's really bleak around here now, you know, with everyone closing up and all. The joke shop up the road was a Godsend. What about you?"

"Oh, I…." he shrugged. "I work at the ministry. It's alright."

"That's great! Hey, listen, I'm about to get off, let me finish emptying this crate and then what do you say we get a drink at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Sure. I'll… I'll go get a table, shall I?"

She nodded emphatically. "Oh yeah, and I bet you don't want to stand around this foul smelling shop much longer than you have to either." She laughed. "It's a dirty job but someone's got to do it! I'll see you in a few minutes!"

She was freakishly cheerful, he thought as he headed towards the Leaky Cauldron. He had no desire to linger here having drinks. She seemed very chatty, so he was sure it wouldn't be a quick pint and then off home for the evening. But he didn't want to add "standing up Monday" to his already-guilty conscience and so when he reached the pub he found a small table in the corner and sat down.

She walked in fifteen minutes later and he almost didn't recognize her without the apron and gloves. Her hair was down. She was wearing Muggle jeans and a blue tee shirt as opposed to the robes he still had on from his day at the ministry.

She must've noticed him looking at her outfit, in one of those bizarre female ways. She grinned as she sat down. "They let me wear whatever I want when I'm just stocking things; this is a lot more comfortable than robes underneath that heavy apron. When I'm behind the counter I have to wear the uniform robes."

"How did you end up working at Slug and Jiggers?"

"Well I always did like potions. Bit of a disappointment for Mum, she's a diviner, and a right good one. But even before Hogwarts I was always cooking and mixing and all of that—it's really not that different except it'll explode if you mess it up. So after school ended I was really happy to get a job there. It's starting out small, of course, at first I didn't get to do a thing besides the cash register but now I'm working with the stock some and hopefully someday I'll be mixing potions and all of that. Assuming there is a someday to look forward to, eh? It was a right shock when Dumbledore was killed. He was such a great wizard—and how it happened! I never liked Professor Snape much, he didn't mess with me since I was good in his class but I never expected him to turn out like that."

She looked down at the table for a moment, running her thumb along its top. It was the most subdued he'd yet seen her.

"You seem pretty positive, at least."  
"Don't know what else to do, really." She shrugged. "It's a crap time, but it's only going to be worse if all we do is mope around all the time. It's like the joke shop—that's your brothers, isn't it? But anyway, they're not letting it control them. They're still going on with their lives, and helping the rest of us get on with our own. This can't go on forever."

"Fred and George did a pretty decent job of it," he agreed. "I never would have guessed it of them."

"Are you still living with your family?" she asked, hailing Tom and asking for a butterbeer.

He shook his head. "I have an apartment here in London. It's easier for work and everything."

She smiled again. "Yeah. I've got my own place as well. Well, more of a hole then a place but it's alright. I was never the best with Apparating so it works much better for me. Mum and Dad live in Bath, for Dad's work. He's a Muggle and so we lived very Muggle, for his sake, and now I live in a Muggle building. I don't mind, it's just a little rough when I bring work home and there's all sorts of weird smells and smoke gushing under my door. They think I'm dealing drugs or something."

"My landlady is a witch, and she doesn't understand Muggle money at all so she only rents to witches and wizards. Not that I'd have much of an issue anyway, but I don't have to explain the robes."

"I forgot to change once and my neighbor asked me if I was in a cult," Monday said, laughing. "Right old prune, that one. What do you do with the ministry anyway?"

"I… I'm junior assistant to the Minister."

She gasped. "That's amazing! Who d'you prefer, the new one or old Fudge?"

"It's hard to say… I guess Scrimgeour. Fudge just wanted to keep up appearances all the time, but Scrimgeour is really looking for results."

"That's good; it'd be pretty awful if you hated him since he's your boss now, eh? Mr. Jigger isn't bad to work for at all. He wrote our potions textbook, did you know? Well, one of them."

Percy took a swig of his butterbeer, the bottle pausing a moment at his lips. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he was actually enjoying the conversation. It was nice to have some contact besides being given work orders for once.

"I'm really glad I ran into you, Monday," he said sincerely. "You're kind of refreshing right now."

"What, me? With brothers like yours, I'd think you'd be swimming in 'refreshing.'" Although I suppose the rest of your family is really involved in the resistance—my Mum's a member, too, you see. So that must be hard, worrying about them."

"Erm… yeah. That's it."

"Well, I know we weren't really friends at school or anything, but I'm glad I ran into you too. It's nice knowing someone else living here in London, most of my friends are out of town. If you ever want to do something together just stop by the shop, I work all the time."

"That would be nice."

"I suppose you're used to being around people all the time, what with the size of your family. Were you really lonely when you first moved out?"

"Erm…"

"Crap, I'm being really nosy. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. You're right, it is kind of lonely. I don't have interesting interactions with my neighbors like you do."

She grinned again. She had a very nice smile, he thought.

"I have some work to do tonight at home tonight, so I'd better be going," Percy said, having had a panicky moment where he thought he'd seen some red hair near the door.

"Oh," said Monday, surprised. "Well here, let me give you my apartment address—I'm on the corner so no one notices when I get owls. I don't suppose you have a phone? Dad always calls; he prefers conversation and of course he's completely useless with floo powder. He's always jealous since Mum can just pop in for tea whenever she feels like and he has to take the train." She paused in writing out the address. "I guess I'm lonely, too."

He smiled wanly. "No crime in it, Monday." And she probably hadn't brought it on herself, he thought.

"Well, you'd best be off then. Come to think of it, I should too. I'm probably filthy."

"No, you look fine. Very nice, really." Muggles had the right idea with jeans, he thought, shocking himself.

"You always were so polite. I do hope we'll run into each other again sometime."

"Yes, me too," he said. She flashed her teeth at him again, and headed out of the pub. Percy was slightly stunned by what had just taken place and almost forgot that he had been the one so eager to leave in the first place.

He tucked her address safely into his bag. He definitely did not want to lose it.


End file.
